


Rewriting the World

by Anonymous



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Actual Disney Prince Alec Lightwood, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Background Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Royalty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-13 07:25:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18464251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: As the crown prince of Idris, Alec Lightwood puts his duty to the throne above everything else, especially his own happiness.But then he meets Magnus Bane and his whole world changes.+A fairy tale about falling deeply, desperately in love, and realising that you really are allowed a happy ending.





	1. Chapter 1

For as long as he can remember, Alec Lightwood has wanted to sit upon the throne of Idris. To listen to the people’s petitions, to dispense justice, to make a _difference_. 

As the crown prince it’s his birthright, and a skill he needs to learn to become a good king. But for years his parents have directed his energies elsewhere: to learning from books and from tutors; to learning to fight – after all, a king must be willing to defend his kingdom with his own blood. He’s learned the laws of Idris and he’s learned about the people who live here: about the humans, about the downworlders that share their lands and obey their laws. He’s learned, too, about the demons who live beyond their borders and crave only death and destruction.

But always, always it’s been learning, reading, listening, never _doing._

And so he’d been delighted when his mother sent him to the border with Edom, with his sister Isabelle and brother Jace, to help the soldiers protect their lands against the demons. It meant _doing,_ finally, and doing something he was good at: with a bow in his hands he’d proven as capable as any warrior, and he’d relished the admiring looks of the soldiers. 

In a year there, he learned so much more than books had ever taught him. Not just about fighting but about people, about politics, and he’d said as much to his mother when he returned. She’d sighed, and nodded: when next she and his father were out of the country, it would be left in his hands rather than Lord Aldertree’s. 

_Do not disappoint me,_ she’d said, but her hand gently cupping his cheek had softened the words. 

He does not intend to. 

“What do you think?” He asks Jace, who’s lounging on an armchair in Alec’s bedroom, one leg draped over the arm of the chair, inspecting the runes on one of his daggers. He doesn’t look much like the Lightwoods, with his blond hair and odd-coloured eyes: one blue, one half blue- half brown. The difference is to be expected since Jace is adopted, but Alec loves him as fiercely as the siblings he shares blood with.

“Think of what?” Jace asks, glancing up at him, and sees that he’s holding a tunic against himself. It’s grey, with black embroidery at the collar and brushed silver buttons at the throat and wrists. “Oh. It’s fine, I suppose. That’s a question for Izzy, not me.”

“Izzy isn’t here,” Alec says, turning back to the mirror and cocking his head at his reflection. He wishes she were here; she’d have known exactly what he should wear, but she’s away with the Iron Sisters, negotiating weapons for Idris’s armies, and Alec would never take that opportunity away from her. 

“Or Lydia.”

“She’s not here either,” Alec says, and tries to ignore the way the thought of his fiancée and their rapidly approaching marriage makes his stomach curdle. 

The marriage was arranged a year ago: he’s to marry the princess of the land to the north, to strengthen the bond between their countries. In that time he’s grown to respect Lydia, to like her. She's become a good friend. But marriage is another matter entirely, especially for someone who’s never felt the slightest attraction to women. It’s his duty and he knows it is; knows too that his dreams of being swept off his feet by another man were always just that: dreams. He might not be attracted to Lydia, but as a prince, Alec’s marriage was never going to be about attraction, and he’s accepted that. Mostly. 

Swallowing, he drags himself away from his thoughts and looks at Jace in the mirror. “And just because she’s a woman that doesn’t mean she’s interested in clothes.”

Jace shrugs. “Whatever. It’s fine Alec, you’ll look very-” he waves his hand vaguely. “I don’t know. Handsome. Regal. And the fabric's dark so it won’t show blood.”

Alec turns to look at him, then shakes his head. “You and I have very different ideas about what today is going to be like.”

“Is there something wrong with hoping for a little excitement?”

“You’re my royal guard, Jace. _Excitement_ makes your job harder.”

“Don’t be scared, Alec,” he says with a grin. ”I’ll protect you.”

Alec sighs, and pulls on the tunic. It does indeed make him look handsome and regal, especially when he picks up his crown, narrow and silver with runes of protection and royalty hammered into it, and sets it over his hair. 

Wishing again that Isabelle were here, Alec turns to Jace. 

“Let’s go.”

===

After two very long hours of hearing petitions from the citizens of Idris, Alec is starting to wish for a little excitement himself. 

Who knew that people could be so stubborn and have lives so dull that they quarrel so bitterly over half a foot of land? And that was one of the more interesting petitions. 

Standing before him now, with shining eyes and speaking with the passion of someone grievously wronged, is a man telling the tragic tale of a neighbour stealing an apple pie recipe. 

“Not only that!” The man says, voice trembling. “The recipe that won the city-wide competition last year! Can you _imagine_ the arrogance of thinking no-one would notice!”

“It is not stolen!” The accused thief snaps. “Who would ever want to steal your tasteless recipe? You only won the award because you’re sleeping with the judge.”

“How _dare_ you!”

“Perhaps,” Alec says, “both of you should bake a pie, and bring it to the court for us to judge the similarity.”

Jace coughs by Alec’s side, and from the corner of his eye Alec sees his shoulders shake with suppressed laughter.

The accuser looks taken aback, but then nods. “Yes! You’re right, your highness – your refined royal tastebuds would surely see that the recipes are the same.”

“Surely,” Alec agrees.

“He’ll see that my pie is infinitely superior,” the other snaps. “Although you don’t need royal tastebuds for that-”

He’s interrupted as the doors slam open. A young woman with hair the colour of autumn leaves rushes breathlessly into the hall and runs towards the dais upon which the throne sits. Jace’s hand goes to his sword, but the woman falls to her knees before Alec.

“Your highness,” she says, gasping for breath, and when she looks up her cheeks are damp with tears. “Please-”

“There are others waiting before you,” Lord Aldertree says from where he stands at the foot of the dais, but the woman ignores him.

“Please, Prince Alec - you have to help. It’s my mother. She’s fallen unconscious, but it’s a curse, I’m sure of it. My step-father is with the city guard and he’s investigating but-”

“Your highness,” Aldertree starts, annoyance thick in his voice, at the woman and at not being on the throne so that he could kick her out himself. “There is an order to things-”

“There is,” Jace says, “But a curse seems more important than apple pies, don’t you think?”

Aldertree glares at him, pursing his lips as though he disagrees. Alec is torn. He likes order; he likes things going as they should. But he also likes not being so bored that it feels like his brain is leaking from his ears. Besides, a curse sounds like exactly the sort of thing the crown _should_ be dealing with. Let Aldertree deal with apple pies and fences. 

“He’s right,” Alec says, then addresses the bakers. “Both of you return a week today, at midday.” They bow shallowly and leave, still bickering under their breath as they go. Alec turns to the young woman. “You – tell me more. What’s your name? What happened?”

The woman takes a breath, wiping at her cheeks before letting her hands fall into her lap. “I‘m Clary. I – I don’t know what happened. I left the house early - I wanted to paint the river while the light was good. And when I got home, my mother-” Her breath hitches, but she blinks away her tears. “She was unconscious, but she was floating, surrounded by a green light. Please, your highness. You have to help me.”

“Floating and mysterious green lights sounds like a curse to me,” Jace says, and looks at Alec with excitement flashing in his eyes. “We should investigate, Alec.”

“Agreed,” Alec says, and stands. “Let’s go.”

“Your highness,” Aldertree says, shaking his head. “There is a proper order to things. All of these other people have come to present their petitions to the court-”

“And I’m sure they’ll understand that if this is indeed a curse, we need to look into it.” Alec knows that Aldertree will tell his parents about this and that they will _not_ be happy, but having to sit here for another two hours sounds like a curse itself. “Besides; I’m leaving you to hear them out. Everyone knows of your wisdom when it comes to such things.” 

Aldertree’s mouth opens as though he wants to argue, but he knows as well as Alec does that he would very much like to be sitting upon the throne, wielding such power as he is able to. 

“As you say, Prince Alec,” he says tightly. 

As Alec descends the stairs of the dais, Jace by his side, Aldertree takes his place upon the throne. Clary stands as Jace and Alec reach her. She’s short and slender, and at a glance she looks delicate as a porcelain doll. But Alec sees strength beneath the surface. She’s the kind of person that will never, ever give up on the people she cares about - who would run into a palace, push her way past guards and squawking citizens waiting their turn, to throw herself at the mercy of the throne to get help for her mother. Alec respects that. 

Jace, on the other hand, is looking at Clary in a very different way. There’s admiration in his eyes, but that’s hardly surprising - Jace’s habit of charming and being charmed by pretty ladies is nothing new. What is new is the startled sort of wonder, like she’s done something truly incredible, like she’s floating and glowing herself. He hides it quickly, staring at the floor as though not looking at her can help him gather his thoughts. 

Alec stares at him, bewildered by his brother’s reaction, but shakes his head and looks at Clary. They can talk about it later. “You should return home. I need to speak to the palace warlock, who might need time to prepare things to help your mother. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” 

Clary nods and licks her lips. “Thank you, Prince Alec. I never imagined you’d help me yourself.”

“Of course we will,” Jace says quickly, and Clary’s gaze turns to him, eyes widening slightly, and Alec sees that same wonder reflected in her eyes. He glances from one of them to the other, and hopes it’s not contagious. “My name’s Jace. I’m Alec’s brother and his royal guard. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

“Thank you,” she says, and they stand there for a moment, gazing at each other like there’s no-one else in the world. 

Alec rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you tell Jace where you live? I’ll go and speak to the warlock.”

He leaves them to stare at each other like love-struck fools, and heads to Dot‘s workrooms beneath the palace. 

Dot has been the palace warlock for longer than he’s been alive, helping the king and queen with everything from portals to healing to weapons of war, yet she’s not the most powerful warlock in Idris. That title belongs to Magnus Bane, the High Warlock, but he doesn’t leave his Tower, an impossibly tall structure just outside of the city. 

Alec doesn’t know why, and whenever he asked his mother about Magnus, she told him that Alec would meet him when the time was right. Considering how long it’s taken her to let him hear petitions, that might be decades away yet. He knows his mother well enough not to press for more, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious; the mystery surrounding Magnus Bane has always intrigued him. Why doesn’t he leave the Tower? What does he look like? All warlocks have marks to show their demonic heritage, some more obvious than others. Is Magnus’s mark so monstrous that he doesn’t leave his Tower? 

Thoughts full of heavy horns and oversized clawed hands, Alec arrives outside of Dot’s rooms. He knocks and the door swings open with the silvery shimmer of her magic. 

Stepping inside, he looks around. He’s always been fascinated by this place. The books, and the jars of exotic ingredients lining the walls; the mirror on one wall that’s always covered, no matter what. He loved having lessons down here, learning more about magic and what it could do. 

And then there’s the woman herself, standing at her work table with a book open in front of her. He’s never known what her warlock mark is, and he has always been too polite to ask. She looks as human as he does, with kind brown eyes, and the hair that falls to her shoulders is solidly black despite her being hundreds of years old. 

“Alec!” She smiles warmly at him as he walks over to her. “How goes your first day in charge?”

He considers. “Reasonably well, if you ignore me leaving the throne room still half full of petitioners.”

Her eyebrows raise. “Oh?”

“Something important has come up, Dot.” He tells her about Clary, about her mother. While he’s speaking Jace comes into the room, standing beside him quietly while he finishes. 

“That does sound like a curse,” Dot says, frowning. “There are any number of curses to knock someone unconscious and keep them that way, but I can’t recall any that would result in floating and glowing.” 

She taps her lips and turns to her bookshelves. Pulling a few tomes from the shelves, she hands them to Alec and Jace to look through, before taking two of her own. She uses magic to look through them quickly while Alec and Jace struggle with indices and notes, but by the time they’re done, with three towering piles of books on the table, they’ve still not found anything. 

“I think the best thing to do is to go and look at her,” Dot says, closing the last book with a slam. “Hopefully I’ll be able to find something that way. It could be that I can break the curse without knowing anything more about it.”

“Great!” Jace says. “Then let’s go.”

Dot shakes her head, walking over to a coat stand by the door and pulling on a grey cloak, delicately embroidered with leaves and flowers. “No need, Jace. I can go alone. Besides, if there is a rogue warlock going around casting curses you should stay with the prince - not that I think anyone could get past the palace wards, but it’s best to be safe.”

“Exactly, and that’s why I’m going - because Alec is going. Right?” Jace looks at Alec pleadingly, like he’s asking to go and pet a puppy rather than investigate some poor woman’s unfortunate brush with magic. 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Dot says. “If this really is a rogue warlock-”

“Then I’ll have my royal guard and one of the most powerful warlocks in Idris to protect me,” Alec says. He’s already told Aldertree that he’s going to investigate this himself, and he refuses to go back up to the throne room with his tail between his legs. Besides, he believes what he said: this is exactly the sort of thing that a prince should be doing. It’s his duty, and if he also feels a thrill of excitement then that’s just a bonus. 

Dot opens her mouth as if to argue, but she sighs and holds her hands up in surrender. “Very well. You are the prince, after all. Go and get your coats, and meet me by the main doors.”

“Thank you, Alec,” Jace says as they hurry up to their rooms. “You won’t regret this.”

“I better not,” Alec says, but somehow, he doesn't think he will. This might just be the start of something big.


	2. Chapter 2

In his room, Alec takes off the crown and puts it carefully on his dresser. He gazes at it for a long moment, thinking about what it means to be a prince. 

It’s more than thrones and palaces, more than velvet tunics and silver crowns. More even than standing with your soldiers against an army of demons, bow in hand and leading the charge. Sometimes being a prince means listening to his people, even when they’re bickering about fences and apple pies. 

Yes, it’s important to investigate this curse, but going himself - that’s selfish, he knows it is. A way to avoid the boredom that is part and parcel of wearing a crown. He’s never liked this selfish part of himself, the part that is willing to look away from something he doesn’t want to see and pretend it’s not there, but he’s still going to go. 

Now that he’s set this in motion, he has to see it through. Whatever his parents will think of him for doing this - his mouth goes dry at the thought - they’ll think even less if he crumbles so quickly. 

Turning to his wardrobe, he takes out a lightweight black jacket and pulls it on, trying and failing not to think of his mother looking at him with disapproval in her eyes. 

He’s glad when Jace steps into his room without so much as knocking - anything to distract himself - but he’s less pleased when Jace offers him a dagger. 

“Are we expecting trouble?”

“No, but it’s best to be prepared.” 

Alec takes it reluctantly and ties it to his belt. He’ll always prefer his bow, but a dagger is less conspicuous. Jace has brought him one of his favoured blades, halfway between a dagger and a sword, the length well suited to his long-limbed reach. Its black leather sheath hides the runes along the blade that gives it the power to slay vampires and werewolves and warlocks as easily as it might a human. 

He hopes he doesn’t need to. 

“Are you ready?” Alec asks, buttoning up his jacket. 

“I’m always ready,” Jace says, and tugs on the lapels of his own coat - long and black, it’s made of spelled leather that will provide protection against attacks, and there are pockets in the lining hiding all manner of nasty surprises for anyone foolish enough to attack the crown prince and his guard. 

“Then let’s go.”

===

Dot is waiting for them in the hallway, and as she watches them approach, Alec sees her take in the dagger at his hip, the sword at Jace’s. 

“You really don’t need to come along yourself,” she says softly, and Alec is grateful to her for giving him another chance to back out, for all that it’s one he’ll never take.

“It’s only because he’s bored,” Jace says with a grin before Alec can speak. 

Dot covers her laugh with a hand. “Ah, yes, boredom: the true perils of the throne.”

“I want to come because it’s my duty to look after my people,” Alec says with an annoyed glance at Jace; he’s always seen Alec far too clearly. “With my parents away, I finally get to learn what that means. All of it.”

“Alright,” she says, bowing her head. “I truly hope I’ll be able to wake Clary’s mother, and that she’ll be able to tell us what happened. It makes me uneasy to think there’s a warlock out there casting curses.”

“Are you going to portal us there?”

“I was thinking we’d walk,” she says. “It’s not far, and I don’t want to drain my magic before we get there.”

“A carriage, then?”

“Stop being such a prince,” Jace says, opening the door, pushing Alec forward. “We’ll walk.”

Pursing his lips, Alec says, “Fine,” and leads them out into the overcast morning. 

It’s warm despite the clouds, the end of spring slowly giving way to the start of summer. Most of the palace gardens lie behind the building to give the royal family privacy, but here before the main gates, lush grass is bordered with flowers. The gravel pathway is lined with trees weighed down with late season blossoms, petals slowly drifting to the ground as they pass. 

The guards either side of the gates stand to attention as Alec approaches. 

“Your highness,” one of them says, and Alec nods in greeting. 

“We’re going into the city,” he says, and they bow before pulling open the gates and letting the three of them through. 

Alec pauses for a moment, looking out at the view. Since the palace is set high on a cliff, it looks out over the city, the glass towers for which it’s famed beautiful even on the greyest of days. On three sides the city is ringed by mountains, silent sentinels standing watch, peaks dusted with snow despite the season; to the west lies the Forest, dark and mysterious, stretching out as far as Alec can see. It’s a forbidding and forbidden place; travelling deeper into the trees than a half hour of walking will take you makes it unlikely you’ll return. There are whispers of curses, of faeries, of ghosts, and even Alec doesn’t know the truth of it. Yet another thing his parents haven’t told him. 

The only safe way through the Forest is a wide road, protected by magical wards and by the Tower of the High Warlock himself. From his vantage point Alec can see the road, snaking through the forest like a grey thread through green cloth, and the Tower, too, impossibly high, soaring far over the tops of the highest trees. Once again he thinks of Magnus Bane, about who he might be, about why he hides himself away. 

“Ready, Alec?” Jace asks, drawing him from his thoughts, and Alec nods. 

“Yes. Lead the way.”

The path from the palace to the city clings to the side of the cliff. That makes it easily defendable: it’s almost impossible for enemy forces to assault the palace in any numbers, and the excellent view makes a surprise attack impossible. Alec finds his gaze drawn towards the city as they walk, feeling the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. He has a duty to protect these people, every one of them, from anything that might threaten them. 

_Even recipe thieves,_ he thinks drily.

Jace leads the way to the city proper, following Clary’s directions. He knows the streets better than Alec, having been allowed more freedom when they were children. Where the Lightwoods - and especially Alec - were kept on a tight leash, Jace was allowed to explore, to see everything there was to see, fight everything there was to fight. Destined as he was to be Alec’s protector, he needed that kind of experience, or so their mother said, something Jace enthusiastically agreed with. 

Alec is less used to walking the streets, and even though his outfit is fairly subtle, his height makes him stand out, and he hears people whispering as they walk by. Most recognise him, and some even bow, murmuring, _Your highness,_ as he passes. He nods at them, feeling uncomfortable with the attention, and wishes they’d portalled to Clary’s house after all. 

He’s grateful when Jace announces that they’ve arrived. They’re standing before a row of houses, each painted a different colour, and most of them have pots of flowers outside. It’s a quiet street, wide and bright, well kept. 

Jace goes over to a house painted a rusty orange that makes Alec think of Clary’s hair, and knocks at the door. Moments later it’s opened by Clary, who gives them a relieved smile. 

“Thank you for coming,” she says, as she opens the door wider so that they can step inside.

As they enter the home they see that it’s light and airy, with comfortable furniture and lovely paintings covering the walls. 

Alec is a distracted from investigating the decor, however, by the woman floating three feet off the floor in the middle of the living room, surrounded by a faint green glow. 

There’s a young man beside her - pale skin, dark hair, wide eyes and open mouth, but Alec doesn’t have much attention to spare for him attention either, not even when he starts to stutter. 

“I- You - Clary said someone was coming to help Jocelyn, but- I didn’t think she meant _you_ , the prince, I-“ He bows so quickly and so deeply that he looks like a twig snapped in half. 

“Me, the prince,” Alec agrees, walking alongside the floating woman. She looks like Clary, though her hair is darker and her face faintly lined. There’s no visible marks to suggest what might have happened - no blood, no bruises; her dress isn’t torn or singed or muddy. She looks like she’s asleep, her chest rising and falling slowly, no hint of distress on her face, nothing to suggest anything out of the ordinary save for the floating and the glowing. 

“Let me look,” Dot says, and Alec steps aside, taking his place beside Jace, who’s frowning at the woman, no doubt seeing the same as Alec: that there’s nothing to see. 

Dot lifts her hands and first tries touching the green glow, but nothing happens - there’s no reaction, but nor can she reach through. Her own hands start to glow with silvery magic, but whatever she’s doing doesn’t seem to be working. She frowns and walks to Jocelyn’s head, resting her hands either side of it and using her magic once more, but Jocelyn doesn’t so much as stir. 

“Can you do something?” Clary asks, hugging herself tightly. Simon goes over to her and puts an arm over her shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, Alec notices Jace stiffen and frown, and again wonders what on earth is going on between him and this woman he’s only just met. “Can you help her?”

Dropping her hands, Dot taps her fingers against her thigh and walks slowly around Jocelyn’s sleeping form, looking intently at her. 

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

Clary shakes her head, frustrated. “I don’t know what happened. I left first thing in the morning, just after dawn. I wanted to get good light for a painting. When I came home, she was like this.”

“Was there anything unusual about how she’s been acting, lately? Has she talked about meeting someone new, or doing something differently?”

“No. I mean - maybe a little. It’s my birthday today, she said we needed to talk. She was - I’m not sure how to describe it. Intense? I said we’d talk when I got back, but now-” She blinks rapidly and wipes at her eyes like she’s angry at her tears. “Please - please, you have to help.”

Dot sighs, and shakes her head, looking at Clary with regret. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”

“What? No, you have to-”

“Whoever did this is far more powerful than I am. I can’t break the curse. I’m not even quite sure what the curse _is.”_

“There must be _something!”_ Clary steps forward, towards Alec, and Jace moves imperceptibly in front of him, but Simon gently takes Clary’s arm. 

“Clary,” he says softly, and tears well up in her eyes again as she shakes him off. 

“I can’t accept that there’s nothing you can do!”

“You said your step-father is investigating,” Alec says. “Perhaps he’ll find something out about what happened. If we knew how your mother came to be like this, that might give us a clue how to undo it.”

“But how long will that take? How long does she have until this is permanent, or it gets worse, or- No.” She shakes her head, her hair shifting with her movement. “I can’t just sit around here _waiting.”_

Alec gets the idea that Clary has never been one for patience, but what can she do? What can any of them do? 

“There is one possibility,” Dot says, turning to Alec. “Magnus Bane.”

“The High Warlock? You think he’d help?”

“If he can. For the right price.”

“I don’t have much,” Clary mumbles, looking around her home. “I’d give him everything I have, but we’re not rich - I can-” She pauses, and shrugs hopelessly. “I can paint him a portrait, or give him one of my mother’s paintings, but other than that…”

“Alec will help,” Jace says, and Alec raises his eyebrows at him. 

“Will he, now.”

Jace turns to him. “Whoever put this curse on Jocelyn is more powerful than your palace warlock. Do you not think that’s worth investigating? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“He has a point, Alec,” Dot says. “Magnus is the High Warlock, and he’s older than me. He might have some insight about who did this, what their motives might be. It’s something we should look into - this might not be an isolated incident.”

She’s right. He knows she is. But what drives him to agree isn’t that, but the possibility of meeting Magnus Bane, who’s fascinated him for so long. 

“Fine,” he says. “Portal us to him.”

Dot blinks. “You? Yourself?”

“Why not? My parents have been working with him for years, I can’t imagine there’d be a danger to me.”

“Not a danger, but just - you don’t need to do everything yourself, Alec.”

“I told you - I’m going to be king one day,” Alec says, drawing himself up to his full height. “I can’t just hide in the palace while everyone else does the hard work for me.” He glances at Jace. “Are you going to try to convince me not to go?”

Jace only grins at him. “Are you kidding? If you go, I get to go too.”

“Thank you so much,” Clary says, and steps forward again. Jace stays where he is, still in front of Alec and ready to protect him, though it looks more like she wants to hug Alec than attack him; he’s not sure that would be much better. “The High Warlock will know what to do, won’t he? Do we take my mother, or…?”

“I don’t think we should move her," Dot says. "I’m not sure it would be safe for her. We should speak to Magnus first, get his opinion.”

Clary looks like she wants to argue, but she nods, once, and rests a hand on top of the green glow encasing her mother. 

“We’ll figure this out,” she whispers, with the steel of a promise running through it. She turns to Simon. “Will you stay with her?”

“I - what? I mean, yes, of course.” Simon’s eyes dart around at everyone before landing back on Clary. “But - you’re going?”

“Of course I am.”

”Absolutely not,” Alec says, at the same time as Dot says,

“Good idea. Magnus will probably need to know more details.”

“But-”

“Come on, Alec. If it’s safe for you, it’s safe for Clary,” Jace says, and Alec sighs, deeply. Insubordination everywhere. 

“Fine.” He bites off the word, but Clary beams at him. 

“I won’t cause any problems, your highness, I promise.”

Alec has no psychic abilities, yet he is absolutely certain that’s a promise she will not be able to keep. 

“Hopefully Luke should be home soon,” Simon says. Alec supposes he should be grateful he doesn’t want to come along as well. "I’ll give him the update if he does. Let him know you’ve gone to see Magnus Bane.” He looks at Clary and nudges her with his elbow. “I can’t believe you’re going to meet the High Warlock _and_ you’re hanging out with Prince Alec.”

“And his royal guard,” Clary adds, smiling at Jace, who smiles back, and they have another moment of gazing softly at each other. Alec manages not to roll his eyes, but it’s a close thing. 

“Can we please get on with this?” He asks, and Dot nods, sweeping one arm around in a circle, drawing a shimmering silver shape in the air, then bringing her hands together and pulling them apart. As she does, a golden portal flickers to life, just large enough for them to step through. It’s something Alec has seen a hundred times, so familiar as to be commonplace, but Clary and Simon stare at it, slack-jawed. 

“It’s completely safe,” Jace says, says to Clary, his voice soft. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I - of course,” Clary says, and swallows, but when she glances at her mother, it seems to strengthen her resolve, and she nods. “Alright. I’m ready.”

“You go with Dot,” Jace says. “Then I’ll go through with Alec. Just in case.”

_Just in case,_ Alec thinks, and wonders what exactly Jace thinks might await them, but decides he’d rather not know. 

He merely nods his assent, and Dot gestures for Clary to stand by her side. She does, and after a last glance at Simon and her mother, Clary steps through the portal. 

“You ready?” Jace asks, and Alec nods, wondering what, exactly, awaits them in the High Warlock’s Tower. 

“As I’ll ever be.”

Side by side, they step forward, into the portal... 

...and step out at the foot of the Tower.

Alec glances around: the road stretches wide and grey to their left, with the shadowed green Forest beyond. To their right is the Tower, made of grey stone, stretching up, and up, and up. Close as they are, it’s impossible to see the top of it. There’s a heavy dark wooden door upon which the only decoration is a circular door knocker, with no handle or lock that Alec can see. 

Dot steps up to it and raps on the door three times. The noise is startlingly loud, booming loudly and echoing down the road. Alec wonders if it’s so that Magnus can hear it up in his Tower, or if it’s just for effect. 

As the noise dies away, there’s a moment of silence before a shimmering golden light appears on the surface of the door, tiny at first and then rippling out until it’s a foot in diameter. 

“Hello, Magnus,” Dot says to the light. Alec wonders if she can see something in the depths that he can’t, or if she’s just used to this strange form of greeting. 

“Dot! How good to see you,” a voice says, soft and pleasant in a way that makes Alec think of touching velvet. “You look lovely as always. Is this business or pleasure?”

“Business, I’m afraid,” Dot says, and glances at Alec. 

He steps forward, trying not to feel too foolish talking to a shimmering light, but before he can say anything, Magnus speaks again. 

“Oh! And who might _you_ be?” The voice is soft and ever so slightly teasing. “I don’t often get guests as handsome as you.”

Alec’s cheeks heat and glances up, as though Magnus Bane might be hanging out of a window to look at his guests. “I’m Alec Lightwood. Crown Prince of Idris.”

“A royal visit, how exciting! And how can I help you, Alec Lightwood, Crown Prince of Idris?”

“My parents are out of the kingdom so I’m in charge in their stead. One of our citizens has been cursed, and Dot says that you might be able to help.”

“It’s a powerful curse, Magnus,” Dot says. “I can’t break it. I’m worried.”

There’s a pause, then Magnus says, “Alright. Come on up, and we’ll talk. I assume our dear prince is willing to pay my consulting fee?”

“Whatever you want.”

Magnus’s soft laugh winds around Alec like an affectionate cat. “Be careful what you promise, o prince. Come on in. Climb until you get to an open door and we’ll talk.”

The door swings open, and Dot gestures for Alec to enter.

“After you, your highness.”

“I’ll go first,” Jace says, and adds to Dot, “You take up the rear.”

“We can trust Magnus,” she says, sounding exasperated.

“I don’t trust anyone I’ve not met,” Jace says, and leads the way inside.

Thinking of voices like velvet, Alec follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post another chapter so soon but I needed something to get over the trauma of the new episode.
> 
> As always you can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/adelaide_rain) mostly, but also on [tumblr](http://raininginadelaide.tumblr.com/) occasionally (more often than usual at the moment, reblogging painful gif sets).

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing started from the thought of 'Actual Disney prince Alec Lightwood' and snowballed from there, as such things are wont to do. 
> 
> The story will vaguely follow the plot of s1 with some fairy tales and Arthurian myth thrown in there. Just in case you need the warning, Alec and Lydia's wedding happens (or doesn't happen) in the same way as it does in the show. There'll be a couple of smutty chapters, but they'll be clearly marked as such and skippable, if you're not interested in that side of things. 
> 
> I think that's it! Hopefully we'll meet Magnus soon :)
> 
> I'm mostly on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/adelaide_rain) these days, but you can also occasionally find me on [tumblr](http://raininginadelaide.tumblr.com/).


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